


And they returned to their own people, and said nothing

by Valemora



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Ass!quisitor playthrough, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 10:50:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6371848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valemora/pseuds/Valemora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On my third playthrough I decided to try being an assquisitor. You know, chasing Cole off, hitting Solas, being hostile to Dorian, killing the Chargers, turning Cassandra into a sad alcoholic, making Varric hate me. It was... a very unusual experience. Quite inspiring, too.</p><p>So, basically this is a short story about some people getting fed up with all this shit. </p><p>Pre-Trespasser timeline. The title is a quote from the Chant of Light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And they returned to their own people, and said nothing

She made a mistake.

Cassandra remembers the day Trevelyan raised the ceremonial sword standing high above the crowd that was gazing at him with reverence and proclaimed that he would lead the Inquisition to the victory… and to his own power.

She should have known. She should have stopped him then.

She should have guessed when he said that he didn’t want to help in the very beginning, when he enslaved the mages – and to think that she was happy with his decision at that time! What a fool she was! – or when Blackwall left…

At least he was smart to do it early.

“Seeker. Get out of my way.”

She looks Bull in the eye and tightens her grip on the sword.

“I cannot let you go after him. He was our friend. You… Maker, you slept with him!”

Bull’s voice is steady and unyielding, as it has been since the Chargers died.

“I have an order. Let me pass.”

“Dorian is not a deserter! He was never conscripted to begin with, he stayed because he wanted to help! Now Corypheus is gone, so he doesn’t have to be with the Inquisition anymore.”

 _I want to help. Please let me stay._ Somehow these words ring hollowly in the depth of her soul, but she doesn’t remember where she could have heard them.

“Boss says he knows too much, and he ran away at night. That’s suspicious.”

“He knew that he would have been stopped otherwise!”

“And he will be. Last time, Seeker: let me pass. Or you will regret it.”

Cassandra breathes out, slowly and steadily.

“No. I am sure I will regret it much more if I let you out of these gates.”

His attack is fast and vicious, but she’s ready for him. He’s larger and heavier, his reach is insanely long and his weapon is much better than hers – Trevelyan doesn’t care about equipping those that don’t follow him everywhere.

She meets his blow with her shield. The clang of metal sounds agonizingly loud in the dead silence of the courtyard. Everyone is looking at them but no one moves to help either side. It’s not just her trying to stop Bull from going after the fugitive Altus, everyone knows it will run much deeper regardless of the outcome. The one who established the Inquisition openly defies the Inquisitor’s orders, and no one will be able to pretend that nothing awful is happening here anymore.

Bull charges again, his gaze cold and emotionless – not a person, but a weapon, an implement of destruction. He’s stronger than her, and they both know it.

But he is standing alone, while behind her, miles away, Dorian is spurring his horse desperately trying to outrun the messenger birds. So she raises her shield to protect him, as she has always done before.

_Oh, Cassandra, it’s not shameful to admit that you just can’t resist my all-encompassing, stunning, overwhelming charm._

Ugh.

It’s fast. And bloody. Neither of them tries to pull their blows, and they know each other’s fighting styles from many sparrings, they know each other’s weaknesses, _they know each other_ , it should not have ended like that.

_The righteous stand before the darkness, and the Maker shall guide their hand._

In the end, she gets lucky. Or maybe Bull lets her win after all – however, this is unlikely. She strikes him right in the leg he favors, the blade running deep enough to hinder his movements. He will not be able to ride now, and he’s the only one Dorian would not fight. Stupid mage should be safe for now, and hopefully he’ll manage to get to Tilani in one piece.

Bull realizes that too, and he growls angrily, swinging his axe again…

_Click._

“I wouldn’t recommend trying that, Tiny.” Varric isn’t smiling and the bolt is aimed right at Bull’s head. “Drop your big toy before someone gets hurt. Bianca is feeling a bit too excited at the moment.”

The axe falls to the ground. Bull narrows his eye but turns and limps in the direction of the hospital. Cassandra wipes the blood trickling down her face and stares at Varric.

The dwarf smirks and lowers his weapon.

“I believe we outstayed our welcome here. As soon as I heard that Sparkler made a break for it, I realized I need to hurry up with my packing.” A stocky horse he’s always favored is standing nearby, ready for the journey. “Do you need to grab anything?”

Her books. Her clothes. Those little pretty trinkets she secretly bought in Val Royeaux, like that lily-shaped hairpin that would look good in her hair if she ever bothered… Her faith which she seems to have misplaced somewhere in this blighted castle.

She looks down at Varric who is still smiling but his eyes are very serious and Bianca is still in his hands. Then up, at the balcony where Maxwell is standing high above them, arrogant and imperious, visibly grinding his teeth at the scene that’s happening in the yard.

Fuck this. Her faith may catch up with them on the road, and she wasn’t using that hairpin anyway.

“I agree. It is time for us to leave, Varric.”

“Can't argue with that. I think I've packed enough food for two.”

Dennet is bringing out her favorite horse, already saddled. Somehow this small gesture of help makes it hard to breathe or talk, so she just nods to him and takes the reins.

No one is foolish enough to try and stop them. They leave Skyhold gates and head to the north, riding in tense and awkward silence.

“I do not have a plan,” she admits softly after a while.

Varric chuckles, reaches to her and pats her elbow. Somehow this familiarity doesn’t spur as much indignation in her as usual.

“Good thing you have me then, Seeker. I always have a plan. Lots of them, actually. As it happens, one of them involves getting a certain city in order. And despite being a crafty person with lots of useful connections, I believe some additional help will not be amiss.”

“Varric, I’m not going with you to Kirkwall.”

“Oh.” He is silent for a moment. “Fine, whatever. I just though you would want to meet the woman who was the prototype of “Swords and Shields” heroine, that’s all…”

Cassandra is so stunned she stops her horse.

“WAIT. You mean, she is a real person?!”

Varric keeps riding on, not turning to her. “Well, naturally she is. Though how much of the books is true, you’ll have to find out yourself. If you’re interested, of course…”

“Ugh.”

She has to nudge her horse to catch up to him, and she sees that he’s grinning so widely that she wants to wring his stupid dwarf neck.

Or – maybe, just a bit – smile back, when he isn’t looking.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you find any mistakes, please tell me :D


End file.
